Silly Games That Only Result In Snogging
by digthewriter
Summary: The one where Pansy makes up a snogging game, and Draco ends up in the broom closet with Potter. / Utterly unbetaed. A lot longer than I anticipated. My challenge to the reader: What was the bet Draco lost?


**Title**: Silly Games That Only Result In Snogging

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**Summary**: The one where Pansy makes up a snogging game, and Draco ends up in the broom closet with Potter.

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"I really don't understand why you're making me do this!" Draco whined as Pansy blindfolded him and had him sit on a very uncomfortable chair.

"Draco, I told you—"

Draco groaned. "I know, I lost the bet so now I just have to pick out someone to snog _blindfolded_." He was livid. The stupid bet was so stupid, and he couldn't believe he'd lost! What was worse was that it was Valentine's Day weekend and he was being forced to participate in this stupid game that made no sense. _Find someone to snog just by their touch_, he scoffed at the thought.

The room was charmed silent and none of the participants could hear each other. The ones who had lost a bet were seated in the middle of the room with the blindfolds. The Eighth year girls, the few that there were, were having a bit too much fun with it, in Draco's opinion.

The rules were made simple. He was to shake hands with a person and nod a yes or no to Pansy. The other person would nod a yes or no to their "handler." It was all a bit silly, of course, and Draco didn't even know if he'd select a boy or a girl. He scowled at the idea of snogging a girl. He'd snogged them plenty since Fifth year but ever since he'd lost _yet another bet_ to Blaise, he'd kissed a bloke and tend to prefer them.

The first person that sat in front of Draco, he took their hand. The fingernails were long and sharp and Draco "accidentally" kicked their foot. He thought that the foot that he kicked was rather soft. He had no valid information to base this on, but he just shook his head in a 'no'.

The next person Draco exchanged a handshake with had soft hands, but they were slightly rugged at the same time. The handshake was solid, and the person grazed Draco's fingers with his or her thumb. That was a bold move, according to Draco. It was clear that this person also knew what they were looking for. Maybe it was a bloke looking for a bloke?

Draco looked to his right where Pansy was supposedly standing and nodded in the affirmative.

After that, Draco shook hands with four more people. But, for some reason the second hand he'd held was his favourite. The third hand was twice the size of his, the fourth was too dry, and the importance of moisturizing was not lost on Draco. By the time the last person came around, Draco had lost all interest. He was set on person number two, hoping that they had wanted to "get to know" him as well.

Pansy had been sort of hazy on the rules. It was no doubt because of the fact that she'd virtually made the game up. She'd said that if Draco selected someone and they selected him and no one else, then they would get five minutes alone in the broom closet. If he'd selected two people, and both of them had selected him, then he'd get his pick, and vice versa.

Draco was anxious beyond all reason. What if the flirty hand person, who he was _sure_ was a bloke, hadn't selected him? If no one had selected him to kiss, then the punishment would only get worse. He had no idea what "worse" was.

A moment later, Pansy placed her hand on his shoulder, and had him get up. She led him down the hall and finally removed his blindfold.

"Who is it?" Draco asked, hastily.

"You'll see," she answered, grinning, causing Draco to scowl.

"Is it a girl?" he asked, attempting to hide the anxiety in his tone. She shook her head and pushed him inside the broom closet. He exhaled with relief. Snogging a bloke wouldn't be so bad. He prayed.

Draco waited patiently for several minutes until he heard the door creak open. He stood up quickly, and pressed his robes. Much to his surprise, Potter, of all people, walked in. He didn't even know that Potter was "playing" this game. He wondered what Potter had done to lose a bet with Pansy.

"Hi," Potter said, sounding nervous, and that only raised Draco's suspicions.

"Potter. What are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you, I reckon," Potter answered. "I was studying with Hermione and I was so sure that I would finish my homework before her and then— I didn't."

"You lost a bet because you didn't finish your _homework_?" sneered Draco.

"What did you do to lose a bet?" Potter asked, almost growling.

Draco groaned again. "It's not important," he said.

"No, tell me!" Potter challenged. "I'd like to know how your offence was more worthy than mine?"

"No, Potter! Now drop it!" Draco snapped.

"Fine," Potter replied, raising both hands in surrender. "So, er..." Potter rubbed the back of his neck. "I think we're supposed to snog—"

"Wait, you _actually_ want to?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Well, we did pick each other—"

"Yeah, that was before I knew who it was."

Potter shrugged and looked around the tiny broom closet awkwardly.

"So you really want to?"

"I didn't say that I don't want to," replied Potter, taking a step closer to Draco, who inadvertently took a step back and was cornered in.

"Potter—"

"You talk too much, Malfoy," Potter said, and leaned in to kiss Draco. He pressed his lips against Draco's mouth and waited until Draco kissed him back. His lips were soft and not as toxic as Draco would have imagined them to be. In a moment's notice, Potter's hand was on Draco's hip and he pressed his body against Draco's.

Draco was having trouble breathing. Not because Potter was crushing him, but because he was actually _enjoying_ the kiss. It had been a while—almost two years—since he'd last kiss someone. And, Potter, if you took away the things that made him Potter, wasn't in fact that bad to look at— or snog.

Potter moaned almost the second Draco pushed his tongue in. Unable to help himself, Draco gently thrust up, grabbing Potter's hips in the process. The kiss only intensified after that. Potter's hands travelled up Draco's hair, and Draco took the opportunity to cup Potter's arse. Their erections rubbed against each other under the trousers and Draco was sure, if they'd continued that way, he would have spilled in his pants.

The door to the broom closet was yanked open. "Well, Granger. I can safely say they _haven't_ killed each other." Draco heard Pansy utter and he looked up, almost pushing Potter away.

Granger and Pansy stood by the door staring at them, wide-eyed.

Draco felt his face burning and he pushed past Potter, and the girls, and ran towards his room. He wasn't sure if he heard Potter call his name, but he didn't turn. He was almost too embarrassed to ever show his face to Potter or any other Gryffindor.

* * *

The next day, Draco woke up to a bouquet of dozen roses in his room. It was Sunday, so he took his time making his way to the Great Hall, accompanied by Blaise and Goyle. He reckoned no one would talk to him if he was surrounded by them.

He noticed Potter at the Gryffindor table, but chose to ignore him. He quickly finished his breakfast, and all but ran back to his dorm. Why was he so scared? He didn't understand.

That evening, he received another set of roses.

Draco continued to avoid Potter for the week, and Potter seemed to be keeping his distance. Except, he'd send Draco flowers every morning and evening. Draco didn't understand. Didn't Potter know when to stop?

Finally, Potter managed to find Draco alone near the Divination Tower.

"Malfoy," he called after him, and Draco sped up his pace. "Malfoy, stop right now or I'll hex you and make it look like an accident."

"Well, it won't be the first time," Draco retorted. He saw the look of horror on Potter's face when he turned and almost immediately regretted his comment.

"Well, I deserved _that_," Potter answered. "I never really apologised—"

"There's no need. That was two years ago and well— I'd rather just forget that whole year."

"Right," Potter said, nodding. Draco looked at him bemused. What did Potter want? "Do you ever smile?"

Draco frowned.

"Well, that had an opposite effect," Potter said, chuckling. Was he flirting with Draco?

"What do you want, Potter?"

"One word?" Potter asked and Draco nodded. "Kiss." Draco immediately blushed. "Two words: A date," he added.

"I need you to stop sending me roses," Draco said, ignoring Potter's requests.

"Why?"

"_Because_... Everyone is making fun of me and calling me a girl."

"Well, then I need you to stop avoiding me," Potter demanded. "And give me a smile, and I'll stop." Draco raised an eyebrow. "A real smile. Like you mean it." Potter smirked, and Draco _knew _he was going to say something else. "Mean it, like you meant that kiss."

Draco bit the inside of his cheek, to stop himself from blushing. To stop himself from smiling. Potter took one step closer to Draco. Merlin, Potter had some nerve! "_Why_?" Draco asked. "Why do you want me to smile?"

"Because I've seen it. Your genuine smile, and I miss it." Potter was completely in Draco's space. Draco was having trouble breathing. "Because, a smile is worth more than a dozen roses. Your smile is worth a lot to me."

"Potter, I don't understa—"

Then Potter kissed him, and Draco allowed it, _again_. This time, Draco was quicker in kissing Potter back. He barely retained himself.

"So you'll go out with me?" Potter asked.

"_Go out with you_?"

"To Hogsmeade. On a proper date. Or sit with me for lunch at the Gryffindor table."

"You can't possibly be serious!"

"Well, I very well can't sit at the Slytherin table..."

"Why not?" Draco raised an eyebrow, slightly offended.

"Okay, fine. I'll sit with you at the Slytherin table."

"Potter, you just—"

"_Slytherined_ my way in, I know." Potter grinned, looking rather content with himself.

"You're unbelievable," Draco answered. They had started walking away from the Divination Tower, and Draco wasn't sure where they were headed. Except, Potter hadn't let go of his hand, and Draco was quite alright with that. He ran his thumb over Potter's fingers, remembering the touch of the first time they had felt each other without knowing who it was.

"Why? Is there a special Ceremony required to date a Slytherin?" Potter mocked. "I wouldn't put it past you lot."

Draco simply shrugged.

They were nearing the exit of the empty hallway Potter had found Draco in, and Potter pulled him in for another kiss. "Will you tell me something?" Potter asked, and Draco nodded, in between the pants and kisses. "What was the bet you lost?"

Draco shook his head. "I'm not going to tell you," he answered, resolutely.

"Well then, I demand to be taken to your bed!"

"That doesn't even make any sense!" Draco looked at Potter with utter disbelief.

Potter smirked, and Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, shag me. Or tell me."

"Fine," Draco said, and all but dragged Potter to his room. He was never going to tell him. Besides, shagging Potter sounded loads better than telling him his humiliating story.

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THE END


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